


In Sickness

by mistleto3



Series: Yatamoto [6]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sickfic, Winter's Kamamoto, k rarepair week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 10:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9604406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistleto3/pseuds/mistleto3
Summary: Despite Rikio’s advice, Misaki spends too long out in the rain and catches a cold.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For [K Project Rarepair Week 2017](http://k-rarepair-week.tumblr.com/post/153527043065/the-final-prompts-have-been-decided-all-days), Day 3: Fluff/Angst
> 
> This fic can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/156885677394/in-sickness)

Rikio had warned Misaki more than once that he shouldn’t spend so long out in the rain- he would catch a cold, it wasn’t worth it, surely he could wait until tomorrow when the forecast was clear. Misaki, of course, had taken no heed, far too stubborn and far too eager to try out his upgraded skateboard (all he’d done to it was replace the wheels, but he insisted it still needed trying out _right that moment_ ). So he’d headed out to the skate park and ignored the freezing rain that fell diagonally in the blustering wind in huge, fat droplets, confident that his aura would keep him plenty warm enough as he got soaked to the skin. Him getting a bit chilly wasn’t what Rikio had been worried about, though, but he hadn’t been able to communicate that to his stubborn boyfriend.

Predictably, the next day, Misaki showed up to the bar with a nasally tone to his voice- his sinuses were bunged up, and he had the sniffles. It’s nothing, though, he insisted, he was fine, it was no big deal. Takes more than a blocked nose to keep Yatagarasu out of action. But by the end of the afternoon, he seemed to have flagged much faster than usual, and the tip of his nose was pink and sore from blowing it all day.

And the day after that, he texted Rikio saying he wasn’t going to be at the bar, but didn’t say why until Rikio pressed, and then he finally relented and admitted that he was sick. Rikio let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair in exasperation. What was he to do with that boyfriend of his?

“What’s up?” Izumo asked, peering over the rims of his glasses at Rikio as he polished the draft beer taps behind the bar.

“Yata-san isn’t well, he went and caught a cold. I’m gonna go see if he’s okay.”

“Alright, take care,” Izumo replied, but there was an odd smile on his face as he spoke.

“Kusanagi-san?”

“Ah, don’t mind me bein’ a sentimental old man. Just wish I had someone who took care o’ me the way you dote over Yata-san, it’s sweet. Someone like you’s good for someone like him.”

Rikio smiled faintly, feeling his cheeks warm at the comment. He had to admit, he’d been a little nervous when it came to admitting to the rest of the clan that they were an item a few months ago, but the consensus had generally been: “you guys are perfect for each other,” which made him happier than he cared to admit.

“Go on, get out of here,” Izumo told him with a fond grin, and Rikio nodded obediently, hurrying off to the store.

 

A short while later, he was knocking at Misaki’s door, his arms laden with shopping bags. It had started raining again, and the water was beginning to soak through the hood of his jacket.

“Misaki, it’s me. Are you alright?” he called.

There was a quiet shuffling inside the apartment, then the clatter of the chain lock being undone, and the door opened a crack to reveal a peep of Misaki’s body. He didn’t appear to be in a good way- his normally tanned skin had taken on a sickly, greyish pallor, and a sheen of sweat stuck his somewhat greasy hair to his forehead. His eyes were sunken, his nose was even pinker than yesterday, and the skin of his lips was cracked and scabbed where it had dried up and split. He was still in his pyjamas, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and there was a quiet babble of daytime television in the background.

“Rikio… what are you doing here?” His voice was scratchy.

“I came to take care of you, silly. You almost never take a day off because you’re sick, you’ve obviously got a really bad case of it. Go and sit down, I brought you some stuff.”

“You might catch my germs,” Misaki pointed out.

“Don’t care,” he replied instantly, with a stern, big-brotherly tone that told Misaki he would not be argued with about this.

Obediently, Misaki slunk back over to the sofa to let Rikio in, who bustled over to the kitchen to begin unpacking the bags he’d brought.

“How come you’re out in the rain anyway after you told me off for it?”

“Because you didn’t need to be out skateboarding when it was raining buckets. At least I had a good reason to be outside: I needed to come and see you.”

“You didn’t _need_ to- I can look after myself you know,” he grumbled.

“Have you taken any medication today?”

“Well, no…”

“Or eaten anything?”

“No…”

“Exactly,” Rikio said, then retrieved the Tupperware box of miso soup and rice from his bag, which he warmed up and poured into a bowl, then pressed into his boyfriend’s hands. “My mother’s recipe- she always used to make this for me when I was sick. Even if you can only eat a little, that’s okay. You need your strength to get better.”

Misaki nodded, taking the bowl without objection- it seemed that Rikio’s point about him not looking after himself had knocked some of the resistance out of him. He perked up when he took the first mouthful, though.

“This is really good.”

“Thank you.”

“You brought a lot of stuff…” he said through a mouthful of rice.

“I’ve got medicine, honey, ice cream, tea, lip balm, video games, tissues, moisturiser, and bubble bath.”

“You didn’t have t-…”

“Nonsense,” Rikio interrupted him. “You’re my boyfriend and you’re sick, it’s my job to look after you.”

Misaki made a quiet, objectionable grumble, but didn’t say anything else- his cheeks had flushed pink at the mention of the word “boyfriend.” Even though they’d been together going on a year now, it still made him bashful to talk about their relationship so candidly, and Rikio thought it was adorable.

As Misaki ate, Rikio set about measuring out the appropriate doses of cough syrup and painkillers and decongestant and setting them out on the coffee table for Misaki to take.

“How did you know I hadn’t already taken some pills anyway?”

“Because you never take medicine when you’re sick- you think you should just power through it, prove you’re man enough to handle it without any help. There’s no shame in wanting to feel better, you know.”

“… Whatever,” he grumbled, downing the cough medicine like a shot, then tossing the handful of pills onto his tongue and washing them down with a glass of water. “Happy?”

“Very,” Rikio replied with a smug smile, clearing away the now mostly-empty bowl of soup (he’d been surprised Misaki had eaten so much of it). “Want some ice cream?”

“Mm.” It seemed the last of Misaki’s stubbornness was beginning to wane, much to Rikio’s relief.

He took the ice cream he’d bought from the freezer and dropped a few scoops into a dish- he’d chosen strawberry flavour, which he knew was one of Misaki’s favourites, even though he pretended he didn’t like it because it was too girly. Evidently Misaki didn’t care enough to object at this point though- his throat was sore, and it was just him and Rikio anyway, so he took the ice cream gratefully. His complex about masculinity had been starting to relax a little in the past few months anyway, and Rikio had his suspicions that this might be because he was dating another guy- the gender roles were a little less distinct when there were no women in the relationship, so Misaki seemed to have opened up a little more to what he normally would have considered way too girly for his taste.

“I’m gonna go run you a bath,” Rikio announced. “Being clean always makes you feel better, and it might clear your head and ease the aching.” While Misaki had never said he was achy, it wasn’t difficult to tell from the stiffness in the way he moved, and he only confirmed Rikio’s suspicions by nodding gratefully at the idea.

Five minutes later, the bathroom was full of thick, menthol-scented steam, and Rikio carried his boyfriend in from the couch and removed his pyjamas as he protested weakly to being babied.

“I can take off my own damn clothes,” Misaki grumbled.

“You don’t normally mind when I undr-…”

Rikio’s joke was interrupted by Misaki elbowing him in the gut gently. “S-shut up.” He shot Rikio a half-hearted glare, then climbed into the tub, letting out a sigh of relief as he sank into the hot water. Rikio discarded his hoodie and sat down on the tiles beside the bath, leaning over the rim of the tub to wash Misaki’s hair, who leaned into his fingers with a soft contented sound and closed his eyes as Rikio massaged his scalp.

“Thank you…” he mumbled.

“It’s no problem,” Rikio replied softly. “Like I said, it’s my job to look after you.”

Misaki made a quiet sound of objection, but didn’t say anything else- as much as he tried to be tough and self-sufficient, the TLC was clearly appreciated, which Rikio was more than happy to provide it. So he sat there until the hot water turned lukewarm, rubbing Misaki’s shoulders once he’d rinsed the suds from his hair, then wrapped him in a warm towel as he climbed out. Once he was dry, Rikio passed him a bottle of moisturiser he’d brought with him, and Misaki regarded it suspiciously.

“It’s not going to hurt you- guys moisturise. There’s nothing un-manly about having soft skin, especially when you’re sick and it gets all dry and itchy. This is the stuff I use after I shave.”

Misaki paused, then snatched the bottle and poured some of the cream onto his hands and rubbed it onto his face as Rikio chuckled, then handed him some clean pyjamas.

They spent most of the afternoon after that on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around them playing video games, with Misaki cuddled up to Rikio’s side for warmth as the waves of chills came and went. Every half an hour, almost on the dot, Rikio refilled the hot water bottle Misaki was clutching and made him a cup of tea sweetened with honey to take the edge off his sore throat. The only point he went further than a few feet from Misaki’s side all day was to drive to a nearby takeout in the evening and collect the food they ordered- Rikio supposed the less-than-healthy meal was alright if it encouraged Misaki to eat, and it did, but his appetite was still nowhere near its usual levels, which troubled him a little. But at least he was eating _something_ , that was all that mattered.

It was barely 9pm by the time Misaki started yawning, but he spent another half an hour resisting Rikio’s advice that he should go to bed and ignoring his lectures about how important rest was when you’re sick. It was only after he’d nodded off for a moment against his boyfriend’s shoulder that he finally admitted that perhaps he ought to go to sleep.

“Mind if I stay here tonight?” Rikio asked.

“You don’t have to, I might make you sick.”

“If I was gonna catch your bug, I would have done it by now, staying over won’t make a difference.”

“Alright, alright, fine.”

Rikio nodded in satisfaction, following his partner into his room and stripping down to his underwear before climbing under the covers. Misaki crawled in next to him and snuggled up to his side, letting out a soft sigh of contentment as Rikio ran his fingers through his hair.

“I feel like I stole the day from you…” Misaki mumbled, his face hidden in Rikio’s chest.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You coulda been out having fun with the guys, but instead you were stuck in lookin’ after me.”

“I wasn’t stuck anywhere, I wanted to be with you. I normally spend all my free time with you anyway,” he pointed out. “And it’s not like we didn’t have fun, we spent all afternoon playing video games, which is exactly what we normally do.”

“I guess…”

“Besides, I’m not your boyfriend just to have fun with you, I want to take care of you and do boring domestic stuff with you too. It’s like they say, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, et cetera…”

“Idiot… d-don’t talk as if we’re married…” Misaki stammered. What Rikio could see of his face beneath his hair had turned scarlet. “Y-you’re a sap.”  

“I know,” Rikio replied nonchalantly. “I know you like it secretly.”

“Shut up.”

Rikio chuckled softly as he pressed a fond kiss to Misaki’s forehead, then lifted his chin with his fingertips to press another to his lips.


End file.
